Before last summer, I disliked cycling. Then I actually started commuting to work - from my first place, it was an easy 9 km round trip, mostly on bike lanes. My next move bumped my commute up to 12 km, and I actually enjoyed spending a bit more time on my bike in the mornings.

Now that I’m temporarily living in North York, my daily commute ends up being about 35 km. While the bike infrastructure in parts of Toronto is actually adequate, as far as I can tell, there is no safe, direct corridor that cuts north-south across the city, thanks in part to two major chokepoints; highway 401, and the Don Valley. As a result, I need to spend at least part of those eighteen morning kilometers sharing the road with cars.

A number of bike advocacy groups promote so-called ‘vehicular cycling,’ which sees bicycles as viable road traffic, privy to the same rights as cars and trucks. While the law is (largely) on the side of vehicular cyclists, I suspect most car commuters don’t give much of a shit before they’ve had their morning coffee. As a result, I’m given three options, none of which are especially desirable; I can ride, pressed at the side of the road, on broken pavement amidst glass and gravel debris; I can periodically swerve further into the lane to avoid the worst of the potholes, making sure I have an omniscient sense of traffic flow behind me; or I can simply take the lane and infuriate drivers behind me, and hope that one of them doesn’t decide to take me out.

This situation was make acutely transparent to me this morning, when I realized, about 3 km into my ride, that I’d forgotten my helmet. Anti-helmet groups (such things exist!) say that wearing a helmet may lead to ‘risk compensation’ behaviour, leading wearers to feel safer than they otherwise would, and thus take greater risks. Previously, I’d dismissed such arguments offhand - after all, helmet or no, no one wants to get hit. But I realized today that it rings true to an extent. When I’m wearing my helmet, I tend to take for granted that I am part of traffic, and assume that drivers will at least respect my existence on the road. But when it becomes clear that the only thing that is preventing you from ending up splattered across the road - not even a foam bucket - is your wits and the desperate hope that the other people on the road are actually paying attention, you choose take your life into your own hands much more seriously. Boiling down a steep, bumpy hill on Bayview at 40 km/h with cars whipping by made me feel like a gazelle in a pack of fucking lions. And I can’t remember the last time I’ve had less respect for my fellow man than when half a dozen cars blatantly steamed through a red light, nearly running me down as I was turned in, waiting to cross the road.

Tomorrow I’ll probably don my helmet and throw myself into the fray once again, but I can see why people in the suburbs feel uncomfortable about commuting into the city by bike. Bikes remain the perfect way to get around in dense urban areas, but long-haul treks along sprawling urban arteries can be downright dangerous. The car-centric urban planning that has prevailed since the ’50s has ruined our cities, and it will take a concerted effort - and probably some spectacular circumstances - to fix things.

Here’s hoping gas hits $200/bbl this summer.